DIE.

[Kamish]

The scarf tied around Kami's neck, however, caught her attention and held it. She wondered what significant value it could have, what made it special... she wanted to feel what it was made of.

Kami was close enough, Mishka mused as she shifted on the chair, eyes still on the worn scarf, which hung just so from Kami’s pale neck. The contrast between the brilliant crimson, somehow sustained though there were some well worn patches, and Kami’s skin was delicious.

Like blood on snow.

Silk, she realised, her fingers slipping through the loose loops, nails brushing against Kami’s neck. Kami was still, not moving, but her quickened breathing and heart-rate, audible to her sensitive ears, spoke of her inner turmoil.

Was it her closeness that made Kami act as such? So uncertain, stiff?

Why?

Was Kami so good at hiding her anger? Had her lack of attention hurt Kami so badly?

“Mishka…” Kami’s voice was small, uncertain.

Did she have such a dramatic effect on the usually calm and collected theri?

Curiosity made her do it, made her tangle her fingers in the perfect material, graze her fingers over the thrumming pulse in Kami’s neck, revelling in the feel of her heart so close.

Kami was intoxicating, why hadn’t she noticed?

Ah, of course, she hadn’t noticed anything about Kami for weeks.

Her scent was changing rapidly, from pained to fearful, fearful and filled with something Mishka couldn’t identify.

“Do… do you fear me?” Mishka questioned, looking up from the scarf in her fingers.

She cocked her head slightly, examining Kami like a specimen.

[Kamish]

The scarf tied around Kami's neck, however, caught her attention and held it. She wondered what significant value it could have, what made it special... she wanted to feel what it was made of.

Kami was close enough, Mishka mused as she shifted on the chair, eyes still on the worn scarf, which hung just so from Kami’s pale neck. The contrast between the brilliant crimson, somehow sustained though there were some well worn patches, and Kami’s skin was delicious.

Like blood on snow.

Silk, she realised, her fingers slipping through the loose loops, nails brushing against Kami’s neck. Kami was still, not moving, but her quickened breathing and heart-rate, audible to her sensitive ears, spoke of her inner turmoil.

Her grip tightened, her fingers trapping the folds of silk between them and holding Kami there, captive.

Curiosity was overwhelming, it had gotten the best of her once, and it was rapidly doing so again.

She shifted her weight, pulling down hard on the scarf. Perhaps a little too hard, perhaps it had hurt Kami a little, but she didn’t care right now.

Her lips were on Kami’s, and she had no idea what on earth she was doing, why she was doing this.

Curiosity. Pure and simple.

Kami’s fingers trembled against Mishka’s cheek, thumb hooking under her jaw, angling her face just so. And in a heartbeat, Kami seemed to steel herself.

Mishka’s lips became harsh, demanding. Mishka wanted Kami to show something other than this lifeless sadness. She knew that this was hurting Kami, she could taste blood as she bit down, suckling lightly on Kami’s lower lip. It didn’t matter.

She tugged on the scarf once more, pulling Kami impossibly close and feeling the silk strain against her grip. Her tongue pushed past Kami's lips, running over sharp teeth for a moment.

And it was then that something in Kami seemed to snap.

Her fingers tightened on Mishka's jaw and cheek, no longer cupping or framing, now directing. Kami's lips forced hers now, and she was suddenly no longer in control.

Kami's fingers buried in her hair, pulling just a little too hard. Ordering her to fall into the submissive role.

A low growl pushed out of Kami's throat, and Mishka moaned lightly, pressing herself against the other female.

Everything meant so much less when you were like this with another, reasons, logic, ethics, right and wrong. All of it mean nothing.

Kami was possessive, and Mishka, had she been looking into her eyes, knew she would have seen something animal there.